


If You Really Knew Me

by VCCV



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 12:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11035953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VCCV/pseuds/VCCV
Summary: MTV's If You Really Knew Me...Glee style.





	If You Really Knew Me

**Author's Note:**

> This does not follow the exact setup of Challenge Day. I picked over and chose what parts worked well for this fic. I strongly encourage you to watch this show on MTV; better yet, watch it with your kids. Yes, it's a bit of a Pollyanna message, but if even the smallest piece strikes a chord in your child, it will have succeeded. /soapbox

Will Shuester hit the off button and drew a shuddering breath. He wiped the tears from his eyes and steepled his fingers, resting his forehead on them. 

Today's high schools were training grounds for a war that took no prisoners, often calling on children to 'take up arms' before the diploma was even in their hands. Academics were absolutely crucial in a child's success, but the hardest learned—and longest remembered—lessons were those learned in the hallways, the parking lots, the segregated corners of the school campus. 

Teachers handed out a syllabus, cheater sheets, provided note cards, PowerPoints, lectures. The skills to learn Algebra or English were repeated and refreshed every day—No Child Left Behind, after all; the only way to truly fail academically was to deliberately set out to do so.

Unfortunately, the most important lessons of social skills weren't covered. What a child learned in high school followed them for the rest of their life; how to bully or escape bullying; how to stand up for yourself and your ideals; how to lie with a smile and how to become invisible; how to plant a knife in someone's back or how to be a friend.

Will Shuester was oblivious to some things, he could admit that. But no one could miss how Glee Club brought out the best—and worst—in McKinley High's student body. This particular Glee Club was unique in that it held more than the drama nerds, the shy losers and the rising divas. It was a miniature replica of the school environment. Jocks beside nerds beside cheerleaders beside outcasts. 

Will Shuester believed that quote by Gandhi with his whole heart: "…be the change you want to see…" And he was determined to not only help his Glee kids succeed, but give them tools to help others. Which brought him back to why he was sitting in front of his TV on a Tuesday night bawling his eyes out. 

If You Really Knew Me followed a group of students through a Challenge Day. During this day, they learned about their differences, or more to the point—their lack of differences. It opened their eyes to what went on beyond closed doors and behind blank faces. It made the kids real to each other and encouraged trust and friendship. In short, everything he'd been trying to subliminally teach the kids.

There was no way he'd get the funding for a schoolwide Challenge Day out of Figgens' tight budget, and even if he did, Sue Sylvester would find some way to pervert or sabotage it. What he could do was incorporate it into Glee—a mini Challenge Day. However, he had to accomplish it in one hour, the length of a Glee practice, or he knew he'd lose someone. So, he pored over the website and decided on small group work. If that succeeded, maybe he could extend it, but at least the kids would get a small taste of walking in one another's shoes.

Well, that was the idea, at least. He wasn't surprised to meet with some resistance. Really, when was he not? He was surprised at who the resistance came from. Mike and Santana were the most vocal. But he pulled his oblivious card and grinned his way through explanations, and before they knew what hit them, he had split the 12 Glee kids into groups of six and sent them to opposite corners of the room.

Group 1 included Rachel, Mike, Puck, Kurt, Santana and Tina. Group 2 consisted of Finn, Artie, Quinn, Mercedes, Brittany and Matt. All of them brought the chips on their shoulders and currently sat in sullen little circles of chairs, body language practically screaming obscenities to one another. Will sighed. He knew it would be hard for some to open up, he just hadn't expected the joining of the ranks against him. He decided to give them an example, a starting place for their sharing. 

"Okay, I want you to start your sentence with these words: 'If you really knew me…'" He smiled encouragingly. "I'll start it off. So. If you really knew me, you'd know that there is still at least one moment every day that I wish Terri had really been pregnant. At least one moment every single day where I think what it would be like as a dad." He felt a bit of melancholia, but overall, it felt good sharing that. At least it had until he heard a soft sound of distress and looked up, identifying it as Quinn.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Shuester," she said sadly.

"No. No, don't be sorry," Will hastened to tell her. "That's really the point of these discussions. There's no blame or judgment. Only honest listening."

Everyone still stared mistrustfully across the circles at each other, and Will sighed again. "Why don't we start with something simple? Favorite colors. Favorite ice cream."

Rachel smiled brightly and sat up straighter. "I'll start."

Eyes rolled in both circles, and Kurt muttered, "Shocking."

Rachel's smile faltered a moment, but she shook it off and perked back up. "My favorite ice cream is lemon sorbet, which as you might know isn't actually ice cream, but I'm a vegan so it's as close as I can get. And my favorite color is gold."

Puck snorted. "Gold's not a color. It's a metal."

Rachel's smile slipped completely away, leaving a rather lost look behind. "I…I suppose you're right," she replied softly, staring down at her hands, folded into her lap.

Mike grunted. "If Shue's gonna make us do this, we should just get it over with and do it without mocking each other."

Puck and Kurt both flushed, looking guiltily at one another. "Sorry, Rachel," Kurt said.

"Thank you, Kurt." Rachel nodded, her eyes shiny.

"Sorry, Berry," Puck followed, crossing his arms over his chest. Rachel smiled at him and nodded again.

Mike went next. "My favorite color is green. My favorite ice cream is strawberry."

"With chunks or without?" Puck questioned. Mike narrowed his eyes and Puck held his hands up defensively. "Hey, there's a difference."

"It's true," Kurt agreed. "There's a big difference."

"With chunks," Mike replied. He then raised an eyebrow back at Puck, who sighed.

"Fine. Blue and Mint Chocolate Chip." Pucks arms went back over his chest, his leg bouncing a mile a minute.

"I'm actually fond of blue, myself," Kurt continued. "And I like Cookies and Cream."

Kurt flushed when Santana snorted. Mike frowned. "Hey." Santana huffed and looked away. "It's your turn," he said, a bit more gently.

"I like red, and I don't eat ice cream because I can't cheer with a fat ass." She looked pointedly at Kurt, who looked pointedly everywhere else but at Santana. 

An uncomfortable silence lay over the group until Tina cleared her throat. "I like black. And banana."  
Will appeared like a magician, startling them all when he clapped hands onto Mike and Puck's shoulders. "That's great, guys! Great start. Now, just keep getting a little more in-depth each time you go around."

Puck snorted at his back as he walked away. "In depth?" His voice went to falsetto. "My name is Noah Puckerman. I like football and long walks on the beach." The girls giggled and even Mike cracked a smile.

"I don't," Kurt said quietly.

"You don't what, Hummel?" Puck smirked.

"I don't like football. I can't play. I don't know the rules. All I can really do is kick, and that's only because of my 'homo dance classes'. It's just one more stone to add to the pile that proves I'm a failure as a normal son." He picked at a cuticle on his left hand, focusing all of his attention on it. "Neither do I like long walks on the beach. Or, anywhere else, really. It leaves me vulnerable. The second I stop being hyper-vigilant, that's when I get blindsided by four men who apparently think they can beat the gay out of me."

He stopped talking; his face flushed red, and he bit his lip as he looked up. Pity, sadness, shock…these he had been expecting. What he hadn't planned on was the pained expression that slipped over Puck's face. After a long moment of silence, his chin tilted defiantly. "What? Is that not the emotional garbage Mr. Shuester wants us to spew at one another?"

"Um…yeah, I guess it is," Tina replied hesitantly when it became clear that no one else was going to. "My dad is cheating on my mom." She peered up through her lashes and squirmed a bit in her chair. "At first, he tried to get me to cover for him. I told him I wouldn't, though. So, he threatened to tell my mom that I'm some…slut. Some whore." Her voice grew thin and thready. "But I'm not. I'm still a virgin!" she protested. "I'm afraid to bring Artie home to meet them. God only knows what my dad would tell him. But Artie doesn't know that. He just thinks I'm ashamed of him."

Her breath caught and she shoved the back of her hand into her mouth to keep the sound in. Rachel hesitantly reached out and settled her hand on Tina's back. Her eyes widened when Tina suddenly turned and buried her face in Rachel's shoulder. Rachel's arms slowly crept around the other girl, letting her cry.

"My dad and I don't get along either," Santana said softly into the quiet. "Mom left him a while back. Ran off with his boss actually," she laughed humorlessly. "Daddy says I'm just like her. And I guess I must be, because he can't even look at me." Her soft voice grew hoarse and she stared sightlessly over the top of Mike's head. 

"Every time I do something she did, or look a certain way, or say something she might have said, he hates me just a little more." She closed her eyes against the embarrassment and tried to control her breathing. Kurt touched her leg and her eyes flew open. His gaze was so sad. So…pitying. She slapped his hand off her leg and snarled. "Don't touch me." Kurt flinched back and thrust his hands safely under his arms. His face flamed.

"San," a voice rebuked. Santana turned startled eyes to Puck. He shook his head slowly, and the disappointment on his face…on all their faces, hurt worse than her father's rants.

She darted a quick look back at Kurt. He looked so much smaller than he had a minute ago, when he had bravely gone first, sharing a bottled up pain with them. The idea that she—a friend—might cause more pain than a bunch of guys beating the shit out of him...she felt ashamed.

Staring straight ahead, she thrust her right arm under his nose and waited. She couldn't see his expression; couldn't see if he would reject her as she'd done him. What she could see out of the corner of her eye was her own hand start to tremble.

Slowly, a warm gentle hand took her shaking one and wrapped around her fingers snugly, and all of her anger just drained away. She turned to look at Kurt with watery eyes. He smiled shyly and covered their linked hands with his free one. Against all her father had taught her about being close enough to someone to let them hurt you, she slowly lowered her head until it rested on his shoulder. She let out a deep, shuddering breath when she felt Kurt lift his hand to cradle her head to his cheek.

"My mom hits me." Every eye turned toward Mike. He shrugged and gave a weak smile. "I know, it's just my mom, but…she's my mom. I can't hit her back, or even say anything to her. I don't really even want to. I just want…" He fell silent. Then, "I don't think my dad knows. I never told him, but if he knew…wouldn't he do something to stop her? Wouldn't he even try?" He pressed his lips together tightly, and when Rachel reached a hand out to him, he didn't hesitate to take it. His smile for her was weak, but it was there.

"I…" Puck's voice cracked. He slouched further into his chair, crossing his arms tighter, even as his long legs sprawled further out. "When I was 14, my mom had a bunch of church chicks over. They were playing some stupid card game I could never figure out, so I was in my room, avoiding everyone. I hated when they pinched my cheeks and talked about me like I wasn't even in the room. So, this one chick opens my door and I was like, 'hey, bathroom's down the hallway' but…" He had to stop and swallow a few times. 

"But she wasn't lost." His smile came off as sickly. "She came on to me. Touched me. Told me how hot I was. She…uh, stayed a while and when she was…when we were done, she left me a $40 'tip'. Said I could earn more if I came to clean her pool every couple of weeks. Said she'd spread the good work to all her friends." 

He shrugged, his lips twisting for control. "I mean, what 14 year old guy is gonna argue with getting laid and $40 bucks a pop? So, I did it. I did it until I couldn't stop doing it, cause, really, what else do you expect from a Lima Loser? When Quinn…when I found out she was pregnant…I dunno. It kind of flipped a switch in me. I mean, I still didn't stop, cause it's all I knew how to do, right? All I was good for." He was momentarily distracted by a tiny moan, and he glanced over to see Kurt watching him with huge, teary eyes. Kurt slowly shook his head and mouthed no. 

Puck shifted uncomfortably, unable to keep eye contact with Kurt. His gaze dropped to the floor, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "Lately, I don't…I don't think girls are…doing it for me." His skin flushed a deep red and his brows furrowed together. "Pretty soon, I think, my body is gonna figure out what my head already knows, and I won't be able to…even if I pretend it's…someone else. I mean, these chicks, they all got curves in the wrong places, you know?"

He nodded shortly, pulling his legs in to take himself off of display, and tried to will the ground to open up beneath him. A hand clapped him manfully on the back and he proffered up a weak smile in Mike's direction. Then, a hand from the other direction thrust into his line of sight. Even had he not known Kurt was sitting next to him, had he not just seen the pain in his eyes for Puck, there was no way he could mistake that hand. He'd spent many hours staring at that hand, with its delicate fingers and perfectly polished nails. Except now, delicate and polished took back seat to raggedly picked cuticles that showed tiny spots of blood next to the nail bed. Kurt waved it impatiently.

"Really?" A wet laugh burst from Puck's throat, and he looked up. Kurt's smile was sad, but true, and he nodded encouragingly. "I can't actually catch the gay again," he whispered with a smile.

Puck hesitantly reached out to take it, marveling at how much more 'right' it felt to be holding Kurt's hand than Santana's or Quinn's, or any girls' for that matter. Kurt laced their fingers together and blushed, focusing on the ground. Puck was completely at a loss, not only did he have no idea how to do romantic--$40 doesn't buy much romance—but, he had no idea what to do with a boy. However, Noah Puckerman backed down to nothing. He tugged their joined hands into his lap and looked expectantly at Rachel, the only one of them who hadn't shared yet.

She smiled, but it never made it past her lips. "I don't always have gold star days," she began. "Obviously, no one had a great day all the time, but I can usually smile my way out of it most of the time. But there are days…days when I go home and I lock myself in my room. I don't pull out the goal of the week or look at my trophies or…even smile." 

She took a deep breath. "Under my mattress, up behind the bed springs, there's a little box. It's not much bigger than a ring box, but what's inside it is huge. It's peace. Calm. Control. Inside is a tiny, little blade. I don't even remember where I found it, but I keep it exceptionally sharp. For those days." She pulled her hand out of Tina's and slowly inched her skirt up her thighs. There, lined up along the leg elastic of her panties, was a row of small scars. They ranged from shiny and white, to angry red and freshly scabbed. She patted her skirt back into place and smiled through a blur of tears.

"No one ever wonders why the most disliked girl in the school bothers to wear such promiscuously short skirts, when she clearly has no one to impress. No one ever knew I was hoping, even sometimes praying, that someone would call me on it. That someone would see. Would know. Would give a damn." She stumbled to a halt, trying to force the smile back on her face. Her lips wouldn't cooperate and she gave up. Her head dropped to her chest and she let a sob escape. She squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to see the disgust and condemnation in the eyes of the closest thing to friends that she had.

Arms crept around her waist and then her shoulders. Someone tugged her head gently over to rest on a shoulder, while another hand stroked her hair. Two more had her hands wrapped up so tightly that she thought she might lose the feeling in them soon. But she didn't care. Because that loss of feeling was nothing compared to what she gained. The moment was broken by a clearing throat. The six pulled apart enough that everyone could see the other group and Mr. Shue staring concernedly at them.

"Um…guys?" Finn asked hesitantly. "You all okay?"

"Why is my boy crying?" Mercedes demanded. 

"It's okay," Kurt smiled, sniffing. "Really, we're okay. Better, I'd say than when we walked in." Nods and murmurs of agreement followed. "We just got a bit…emotional."

"Ice cream is really that emotional for you guys?" Artie raised a curious brow. 

"Mercedes and Quinn get to have ice cream every day," Brittany said mournfully. She started in confusion when the Gleeks in the huddle burst into laughter.

"What?" Finn frowned. 

Rachel smiled a real smile, and it lit up her face. "We took it a little further than just talking about ice cream."

"Oh!" Brittany gave a tiny hop. "Like, do you like it on a waffle cone or in a bowl?"

Santana snorted, then held out a free arm and beckoned to Brittany, who bounded into Santana's embrace without hesitation. "Not exactly, Brit." Santana smiled.

"So, you wanna tell us what you were talking about, then?" Matt asked worriedly eying Mike who crouched next to Rachel and had his arm slung around Puck.

"Yeah," Mike reassured him with a smile. "I think we really do want to tell you. Just, not right now." Matt looked even more confused. 

"Right now, you all need to get over here," Rachel laughed. Still in the dark, the other five none-the-less swarmed the group, arms opening up all around the circle to welcome them in. 

Will stood back, smiling proudly at geek and jock, gay and straight, all together in a clump of laughter and tears. He might never get to hold that baby in his arms, but he realized he already knew what it felt like to be a father.


End file.
